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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25040254">Maybe I Can Visit You Sometime?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_Happens_To_The_Heart/pseuds/What_Happens_To_The_Heart'>What_Happens_To_The_Heart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beverly pre-show (and during season 2), Childhood, Episode: s06e06 True Q, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, Medical School, Parenthood, Pre-Canon, Q Continuum, Vignette, Young Beverly Crusher, amanda rogers being a good q and an incognito but good friend, baby Wesley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:27:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25040254</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_Happens_To_The_Heart/pseuds/What_Happens_To_The_Heart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Amanda Rogers left to learn what it meant to be a Q, she asked Beverly Crusher if she might come visit her sometime. Shortly thereafter, she was struck by the realization that she could visit her anytime. Literally. But Amanda isn't a normal Q, and she certainly doesn't share the disregard for mortal lives or linear time that her mentor, Q, possesses. She has no intention of treating humans like playthings, popping in and out of their lives willy-nilly with no concern for their privacy, self-determination or time-lines. Still, visiting a friend might be just what this new Q needs to keep her humanity, whether that friend knows it's her or not...</p><p>A series of vignettes of Beverly Crusher at various points in her life having friendly interactions with (near)-strangers who may or may not be an immortal member of the Q Continuum in disguise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Pillowfort Star Trek Big Bang</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Maybe I Can Visit You Sometime?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I had a lot of fun writing this! (Also yes, in my headcanon Wesley went with Beverly back to Earth during season 2).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sea lapped lazily at the pistachio sand of the beach, most waves not bothering to foam up as they gently crashed. The shoreline wasn't empty by any means, but the throngs of summer had long gone and most of the visitors, locals and tourists alike, seemed content to be near the water rather than in it. Strollers, sandcastle-builders, frisbee-throwers and picnickers dotted the sand and the grassy slopes above, but only a few swimmers could be seen. As the afternoon sun climbed higher in the sky, lengthening the shadows, a shrill shriek spooked a sea bird into flight.</p><p>"That's freezing, you said it was warm!" The lanky human girl with bright red hair skipped back a step, sending an accusing glare at her young Andorian playmate, who had just sent a spray of chill autumn seawater over her face and torso, drenching the front of her deep teal playsuit. She eyed the water for a moment, then braved stepping in up to her ankles in order to kick up a retaliatory splash.</p><p>"No, it isn't!" the boy retorted, unfazed by the water that drenched his short-sleeved shirt, his shorts already good and soaked. Stooping down to scoop both arms through the water he splashed her again, barely missing as she retreated backward once more.</p><p>"Yes, it is!" she replied, hesitating before deciding splashing him wasn't worth putting her feet in the cold water again.</p><p>"No, it isn't!"</p><p>She huffed, digging her toes into the sand as she crossed her arms. For a moment the two children eyed each other in silence, each weighing the other's argument. Then her posture relaxed and she uncrossed her arms, bending to pick up a speckled seashell. "It's relative anyway."</p><p>The boy paused a moment, squinting at her quizzically. "What's that mean anyway?"</p><p>She stood up a little straighter, the confidence that the shriek had robbed her of returning once more. "My Nana says Andoria is much colder than Caldos and Luna and this world, too, so that means to you the water feels warm but to me it feels cold. That's called being relative."</p><p>"Oh..." He considered that a moment, then shot her a conspiratorial look. "Hey... do you think your Nana will let us have more ice cream?"</p><p>"Maybe, we can ask. Race you there!" The girl's face brightened and she took off running toward the shady spot a little ways up the grassy hill where her grandmother had spread the pick-nick blanket.</p><p>"Hey, that's cheating!" he called as he took off after her, two pairs of small bare feet smacking against the sand.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>"It's okay, Wesley... Look at the ship!" Beverly cooed, nudging the mobile that hung from the canopy of the pram so it started spinning gently. The model ships that hung from it glimmered as they caught the light from the window. </p><p>Outside, she could see the library's employee entrance a floor below at ground level, the paved path that led to the campus cafeteria, and not much more. It was a view she'd gotten very used to lately. Whenever she brought Wesley with her to the library — and since Jack shipped out three weeks ago that now meant every time she went — she opted for parking the pram by the most secluded of the computer terminals, the one by this window, in lieu of sitting in the more populated reading rooms by the big floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the quad. So far it had been working out all right; she'd feed him just before leaving the apartment and usually he'd be asleep by the time they got there. On a good day, he'd stay asleep for two or three hours, and even once he woke up there were enough interesting shapes and colors to look at in the area that she could usually get nearly another hour of at least semi-focused work out of the deal. </p><p>Today was not one of those days.</p><p>Wesley had only barely dozed off on the walk over and had woken up before she'd even managed to finish reading through the bullet-pointed list she'd left herself at the end of her last study session. So many things left to do before her deadline that evening — fleshing out the introduction and the conclusion, triple-checking her sources, restructuring section 4.3, adding at least 300 words to the background section, formatting the reference list etc. — and they were all looking increasingly unlikely. Wesley had rejected his snack, and was thus far unimpressed by everything in his immediate vicinity. He was starting to whine, that sort of whine that wasn't terribly disruptive <em>yet</em> but would, without intervention, become so rather quickly. </p><p>"Look at the ship, isn't it pretty?" Jiggling the pram side-to side at a steady pace, she made an effort to keep any note of stress out of her cooing. "This one's a Hiawatha, and this one's a Constitution class, and this one is a... Galaxy? Maybe a Galaxy, ships are really Daddy's thing if I'm being honest. Yes, it is. Yes, it is!" The sing-song voice, the jiggling and the spinning ships usually worked, but Wesley just wasn't having it today. "It <em>is</em> Daddy's thing, and Mommy's thing is finishing this paper before her deadline. Wouldn't that be nice, huh? Yes, it would!" That was one sure upside with babies — at least you could snark as much as you wanted so long as your tone was cheerful.</p><p>The whining subsided a little and then grew into a wail when she made the mistake of discontinuing the jiggling. She quickly scooped him out of the pram and held him to her chest, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Ssh-ssh, it's okay. It's okay, we can just cry until Mommy is very nicely asked to leave the library and then has to very nicely ask her teacher for an extension instead. Oh yes, we can. Yes, we can. Won't that just be great?" Bounce-walking in a small circle around the pram and the computer console, she gave up on the parentese and settled for simply making soothing noises instead. Wesley stilled, but every fiber in her, whether innate or honed by the was-it-really-only-a-few-months of experience with her son, told her it was that treacherous type of stillness that would end the moment she stopped moving.</p><p>She felt as though she'd tried everything. She'd checked his diaper, and burped him, checked his temperature and walked two laps around the library with the pram, but although he'd dozed off a little he'd woken right back up as soon as she sat back down to work. She could just go back to the apartment, but her early years at Starfleet Medical had taught her that she studied better away from home. Her own words flowed better, others' words made more sense, focus was more solid and enduring when she was at the library or in a cafe or even on a bench in the park than it ever was on her own couch. And today, with a cranky baby and some fairly neglected housework waiting for her, she had a hunch that going home would lead to her simply giving up. All logic aside, that thought filled her with a slowly growing sense of dread. </p><p>Technically, it didn't matter if she met this deadline or not. Starfleet Medical had no qualms about students going on parental leave. Technically, there was no reasonable way asking for an extension would have a negative impact on her future as a doctor. <em>Technically...</em> But somehow, this still felt like the most important deadline of her life, as if the very essence of her identity as a student and physician-in-training was hanging in the balance.</p><p>The truth was, this hadn't been the deal. Wesley was joy and warmth and endless fascination, but all other things being equal, she would have preferred to wait until after graduation to have a baby. The timing had been a practicality, a compromise — she'd postpone her graduation by a year and Jack would apply for a posting on Earth or maybe on Luna his first year or two after graduating, until Wesley was old enough to go to daycare. That way they'd tackle the baby phase together, and neither one of them would have to put off their professional plans for more than a couple of years. It had been a good plan, one they'd both been happy with in spite of the bad rep compromise sometimes got in marriages... until the <em>USS Stargazer</em> came along. </p><p>She didn't blame him for taking the posting. Eventually, an offer would come along that she wouldn't be able to refuse, and Jack would support her. She was glad to do the same for him now, but supporting him in this unexpected change of plans didn't mean she wanted her half of their agreement. So, a few weeks before Wesley was born she'd pared her course load to about a quarter of what it usually was, just as she'd planned when they'd first decided to have a baby. </p><p>It still felt like the right choice. In the face of sleep deprivation and a social circle that seemed to be shrinking uncomfortably, there was a safety in still having reading to curl up with on the sofa while Wesley napped, in having seminars to go to and classmates to have coffee with and show photos of Wesley to. It was doubly true now that Jack was gone — following a lesson plan reminded her that time was still passing, that Jack would eventually be back and she would eventually be a doctor and Wesley would eventually sleep through the night. A safety and a sense of self, and the idea of giving up on her first deadline as a solo parent... Call it pride or stubbornness or even a touch of resentment, whatever it was she just wanted so badly to be able to say that she'd managed it, to feel that she could do this, that she wouldn't have to put her graduation of for a year more than she'd originally intended.</p><p>Beverly swallowed hard against a lump in her throat. She knew it was probably just hormones, but this new tendency of hers to be on the verge of tears at the drop of a hat was a part of motherhood she was distinctly not enjoying. Pushing herself out of her head and back into the physical space, she shifted Wesley onto her other hip and reached into the baby bag hanging on the pram for one those sachets of smoothie that he'd just recently started to eat and seemed absolutely smitten by.</p><p>"How about a little snack, huh?" she said, unscrewing the top and letting it fall back into the bag — she'd feed the packet to the reclaimer when she got back home. "Blueberry and banana, yum!"</p><p>She offered the packet to him, squeezing it so a little of the purplish substance peeked out of the mouth-piece. He turned his face away in refusal, and then tried to twist out  of her grasp in one of those death-defying stunts that babies that age seemed so fond of. She caught him, somewhat used to this strain of pulse-raising shenanigans by now, and held him tighter to her chest. The next moment she realized that somehow the smoothie sachet had gotten caught between the two of them, and it's contents were now smudged across the front of her blouse.</p><p>Beverly took a deep breath and closed her eyes, attempting to let the fact that her son had not managed to dive head-first onto the floor fill her with a sense of calm and appreciation. It was not a particularly successful attempt. She felt a tug at her blouse and looked down to discover that Wesley had clamped his mouth over the smoothie stain and was cheerfully sucking on it.</p><p>"Oh, now you want it, huh?" she mumbled and her voice cracked in that half-laugh, half-sob kind of way. She closed her eyes again and resumed bouncing on the balls of her feet, trying to compose herself enough to decide what she wanted to do.</p><p>"Hello, Mrs. Crusher." </p><p>Beverly quickly swiped at the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of her free hand before turning toward the familiar voice. "Hello, V'Ler," she replied, mustering a flustered smile at the librarian. V'Ler was on Earth for a work exchange from Vulcan, and since they usually worked the afternoon shift Beverly almost always saw them when she came down to study. Though V'Ler was somewhat reserved in that quintessentially Vulcan way, the two of them had taken to talking a little almost every time they saw each other. Beverly wouldn't say they were friends yet exactly, but given another few weeks they might be. "How are you?"</p><p>"Quite well, thank  you," V'Ler replied. "Are you quite all right?"</p><p>That phrasing... Beverly clearly wasn't hiding her emotional state quite as well as she'd thought. "Yes, I'm fine, just... deadline and baby and..." She gestured vaguely to the front of her clothes. "Not the smoothest of days. Sorry about the noise, I hope we haven't been bothering people."</p><p>"I do not believe so." They paused, eyes dipping to the stain for a moment. "Would you like a hand?" </p><p>"I..." she hesitated, glancing over in the direction of the restrooms. "Would you mind? I'll just need a second..."</p><p>"Certainly not," they replied, and held their hands out to receive Wesley as Beverly passed him over. "I am currently not in any hurry."</p><p>"Thank you so much! All right, be good now, Wes, I'll be right back." She gave his little foot a squeeze and smiled at V'Ler, who shifted the baby onto their hip.</p><p>"Hello, Wesley. Let us give your mother a moment to focus on stain removal."</p><p>Heading toward the restrooms, Beverly heard the polite small-talk continue behind her back as V'Ler asked Wesley about his day. </p><p>The restrooms were empty, and she slipped into a stall and took off her blouse so she could get it under the tap. To be honest, she didn't even care that much about the blouse, but getting to step away for a moment to collect herself was quite welcome. It didn't take much time to give the stain a good enough rub that it at least wasn't very obvious anymore. Once that was done, she splashed cold water in her face, dried herself off and fixed herself with a firm look in the mirror.</p><p>"Beverly Cheryl How- Crusher, pull yourself together. You are not going to start crying in the middle of a library. Now, you go back out there, and you soothe that baby, and you finish that paper right now!" she told herself as she put the now less stained but partially wet blouse back on. She heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snicker from one of the other stalls and felt her face heat up, but even with the sheepishness the pep talk somehow made her feel a little better. "Right." She nodded at herself in the mirror, smoothing her blouse out before leaving the stall.</p><p>When she got back to the computer terminal, she found Wesley giggling and bouncing in V'Ler's arms as the librarian pressed buttons on their handheld diagnostic tool. Each press of the button would make a little sound, and the baby was apparently thrilled. More amusingly, he seemed equally thrilled with the small talk the Vulcan was providing in an impassive tone.</p><p>"Indeed, the noise is quite pleasing, is it not?"  V'Ler was saying as Beverly came within earshot. "Ah, there is your mother now. Over there." </p><p>"Thank you so much! Hello Wesley, mommy's back..." When V'Ler handed the boy back to her, the giggles were immediately replaced by whining. "Oh, it's like that, is it? Is that what we're doing today, huh?" She resumed the parentese, as well as the bouncing, and smiled at V'Ler. "I'm starting to think he can smell the deadline on me." She'd go back  home, and hopefully have more luck with the napping there. It wasn't optimal — she just couldn't seem to focus as well when writing at home — but it was all she could do to make the best of the situation. </p><p>"When is  your paper due?" V'Ler asked.</p><p>"This evening," she replied with a shrug, trying to both communicate and feel a lack of stress on the topic and not quite succeeding.</p><p>"I see." V'Ler paused a moment, in a way that Beverly had started to assume meant that they had something else to say. "I am doing a diagnostic round of the computer terminals. I am quite capable of conducting this type of work one-handed. As you may have noted, there are quite a lot of terminals in the building so it would probably afford you ninety minutes or so of uninterrupted work."</p><p>"I-" She began to object on reflex but cut herself short. If she was going to make this work without delaying her graduation by one more year than planned, she was going to have to accept help on occasion. Maybe now was as good a time as any to start. "Are you absolutely sure?"</p><p>"I am. However, it may not be enough time to finish the paper."</p><p>"It would be an incredible help," she replied. "If he gets in the way or anything like that, you bring him right back, all right?"</p><p>"Certainly," V'Ler replied flatly, but with a near-cheerful expression in their eyes. "I will bring one of these, in case it is required." They picked up one of the smoothie packets and slipped it into the small tool pack on their belt, in the spot where the diagnostic tool no doubt usually went.</p><p>"Well, isn't this exciting, Wes? You're going on an adventure! A diagnostic adventure! Yay!" She gave him a tickle as she handed him over, and he giggled and tried to reach for  the diagnostic tool. "Thank you so much, it really is incredibly sweet of you."</p><p>"It really is no trouble," V'Ler said and then nodded toward the terminal by the pram. "I have already checked this unit. We will return once our task is complete. Say goodbye to your mother," they addressed the last toward Wesley. </p><p>"Bye, Wesley!" Beverly waved, but he was largely ignoring her, apparently perfectly comfortable with his impromptu babysitter, at least for now. As V'Ler moved off, Beverly sat back down and took a deep breath. Quickly re-arranging her to-do list, she put the tasks that would likely suffer the most from being done back home at the top with the introduction as number one. Looking up, she saw V'Ler by a terminal further down in the direction of the reading rooms, bent slightly at the waist as they ran the handheld tool along the back of the machine and regarded the readouts. They were chatting calmly, at too low a volume for Beverly to make anything out, with Wesley, who seemed mesmerized by what was happening. Beverly smiled to herself, making a mental note that she should get them some kind of a gift basket, straightened her back, and started typing. </p><hr/><p>The scrape of chairs against the floor and a chorus of goodbyes and well-wishes filled the spacious community hall as the circle of bereaved broke up and scattered back into their day-to-day existences. Beverly stood, smoothing her skirt and picking up the small black purse that hung over the side of her chair. She had barely said anything in the meeting today, but she didn't feel ready to leave yet. Inside, she was at once numb and roiling, and she wasn't looking forward to going back . Lingering by her chair, she shifted to the side to let the person sitting next to her past, an automatic smile and a goodbye leaving her lips.</p><p>"Beverly?"</p><p>Hearing her name behind her, she turned toward the familiar voice of Seleth-Anyek, the gentle Grazerite woman who organized the grief support group that Beverly had been attending every week since the week after Jack's funeral, now several months ago. "Yes?" </p><p>"Would you mind staying behind and helping me with the chairs?"</p><p>"Oh... No, of course not," she replied. Usually George, a young human who had lost his fiance the previous year, helped out with that, but he was on a trip back to Earth to visit his family. "No problem."</p><p>"Thank you, dear." She smiled warmly, adjusting the mauve cowl around her horns. </p><p>Beverly let her purse drop onto the seat of her chair, and picked up the one next to it, moving it over to the far wall where a great many more waited in neat stacks. The two of them worked their way around the circle of chair, quietly and efficiently. There was something sort of pleasant about the sheer practicality of the task.</p><p>"I'll go tidy the refreshment table," Seleth-Anyek said when a handful of chair remained, moving off toward the table by the entrance with the floral table cloth as Beverly continued with the chairs. A moment later she spoke again. "Why don't we split the last one?" As Beverly looked over, she held up the basket that had held the danishes, tilting it so Beverly could see the one remaining pastry at its bottom. </p><p>"Sure, sounds good," she replied with as much of a smile as she could muster without effort. She was quite fond of Seleth-Anyek. They didn't know each other well, but the way the Grazerite managed the group, equally good at being warm and affectionate as she was at respecting people's boundaries and silence, was something Beverly really appreciated. She fussed around the other group members just enough that it was never condescending or unhealthy, and a few of the others had taken to referring to her as Group Mom.</p><p>"I think there's some coffee left, too. Enough for two cups, anyway."  </p><p>Beverly lifted another chair onto one of the stacks by the wall, and when she turned around Seleth-Anyek had sat down on one of the two chairs remaining in the circle, a cup in each hand and a small plate with the final pastry on her lap. She nodded toward the final chair, right next to hers.</p><p>"Thank you," Beverly said as she sat down and Seleth-Anyek handed her a cup. Blowing on it, she took a testing sip — no sugar and a bit of cream, just the way she liked it. The danish had been cut neatly in two, split down the custard-filled center, and was flaky enough to warrant Seleth-Anyek handing Beverly her half on top of a napkin. She nibbled it quietly, unsaid words scratching at the back of her throat. </p><p>"You were quiet today," Seleth-Anyek said after a moment.</p><p>"Yes, I suppose I was..." Beverly replied. Truth be told, she was often quiet in group. She shared, because that was the point, but never very much. Just being there felt as though it helped more than talking, being around others who were going through the same thing, others who had gone through it and somehow made it back to the surface. Today, though, she needed to speak and the words hadn't come in front of so many people. Their shared pain aside, she still didn't really know them and it just didn't feel right to be so naked in front of near strangers. </p><p>"How are you doing?"</p><p>"I'm doing all right," she said. It was the same sentiment as the one she'd given in group. Perhaps it was just how empty the room was, but it rang a lot more hollow now. "I have better days and worse days, but I'm trying to be patient with myself and remember that grief is a process and there's always going to be ups and downs and..." She trailed off and drew a deep shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the cup. She could hear herself, her words a string of platitudes so empty they couldn't even be called lies. She lifted her mug to take a sip, but the liquid sloshed and she realized her hands were trembling. Lowering the mug to her lap again, she licked her lips. Did she really want to talk about it? Could she afford not to? She stared into the middle distance but gradually her gaze dropped as if weighed down by the heaviness inside her, until it settled somewhere along the baseboard on the opposite wall, her shoulders slouching slightly. "I jus-" She tried again, voice thickening with tears. "I don't think I can do this..."</p><p>The words tore down some invisible wall and the next moment she was sobbing, slumped forward where she sat. She was sure she'd spilled her coffee from the force with which she shuddered as she cried, but somehow the cup was gone before her hands lost the ability to hold it steady. She sobbed until her chest hurt, garbled words tumbling out between ragged in-breaths — how much she missed him, how lonely she was, how she wasn't like her grandmother, wasn't strong enough to do it on her own. Racked with grief and fear and anger bottled up for weeks and months as she'd tried so hard to hold it all together, she now held on to Seleth-Anyek's hand instead, clutching it like it was the only thing in the world, as the Grazerite stroked her gently over the back. </p><p>Sudden though the onset had been, it receded gradually. Sobs slowly subsided into deep, shaky, teary breaths that by and by calmed into sniffles. The intensity of the feeling drained away and with it, it seemed, went most of her energy. She was exhausted, and relief and embarrassment both bloomed to fill up the space where that feeling of suffocating on unspoken emotion had been. </p><p>"I'm sorry," she said with a sniff and cast a bashful glance in her companion's direction. "That wasn't quite how I meant for this to go..." </p><p>Seleth-Anyek made a soft, dismissive sound and handed her a tissue. "Don't give it another thought, dear."</p><p>Beverly wiped her face, vaguely grateful to her morning self for picking waterproof makeup. Feeling a little more herself, she straightened her back and looked around to find her coffee cup safely on the ground a foot or so in front of her chair. She picked it up and took a sip; it had cooled off a bit, but the slight bitterness was grounding. "It's been a hard week..." she said. "Maybe even a little harder than I thought."</p><p>"Do you want to tell me about it?"</p><p>She hesitated for a moment. She didn't think she had any more crying left in her for the moment, but giving voice to your thoughts was a different kind of release than tears,  perhaps one she needed just as much. "I had a panic attack the other day," she said flatly, swallowing as she ran her thumb along the wedding band she still didn't feel right taking off. "I was dropping Wesley off at school and his teacher reminded me of this... this recital they're having next week. Wesley's first school play. It's about solar systems and... planets and gravity. It's got a song and everything. So I noted it down in my calendar, and headed to work and it struck me, just all at once, how Jack won't be there to watch it. And then it struck me how he won't be there to watch any recitals, or any first or last days of school, or any birthdays or-" She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice level. Maybe she had some tears left in her after all. "I just spiraled. Like my whole future was just spilling out in front of me, thing after thing that he was supposed to be there for and.. I don't even really remember what happened. Suddenly I couldn't breathe... palpitations, dizziness, my hands went numb, the whole nine yards. Next thing I knew I was in the emergency room. Someone called an ambulance, I suppose. It's all kind of a blur..."</p><p>"Sounds frightening."</p><p>She nodded slowly, sniffing a little. "I... I thought I was doing better," she said with a sigh, then shook her head. "No, I <em>know</em> I'm doing better. I'm working, I'm going out, socializing again. <em>Feeling</em> again. But this... it feels like such a setback." She crumpled the napkin in her hand, folding her fingers around it. Seleth-Anyek placed her hand on top of hers, a gentle touch, light and warm.</p><p>"It's not easy, none of it is..." she said, with the weight of someone who knew. </p><p>"It's just so <em>frustrating</em>. I was finding some kind of new normal, <em>finally</em>, and now I have to worry about panic attacks?" She sighed. "I keep thinking, what happens if I have one while I'm with Wesley? He's so young... I can explain it but all the explaining won't make it less scary for him. He's been through so much already..."</p><p>"If that happens, I have every confidence you'll find a way to help him through that, too." Seleth-Anyek's fingers tightened around Beverly's for a moment, and she gave her an encouraging smile before letting go and leaning down to pick up her own coffee cup and the still only half-eaten pastry halves. "It may not feel like it now, but you'll find a new normal eventually. It just may not be what you expect." She offered her the pastry once more, and Beverly took it. She wanted to believe her, but she wasn't sure she could yet. </p><p>Silence fell over the pair again as they drained their cups and finished their pastries. Whether it was the caffeine and fuel or the release of tension, Beverly felt a little more like herself again.</p><p>"I'm thinking of cutting my hair," she said, twirling a loose strand that had escaped from the braid that reached just below her shoulder blades.</p><p>"Oh?" </p><p>She nodded slowly. "I keep thinking 'I need a change' like a new hairstyle is really going to change anything... but then again it's been in a braid nearly constantly since Wesley was born. Too many things for him to grab when he was a baby... I sort of got used to it I think and now that I've started wearing it down again sometimes it just seems...  unpractical. "</p><p>"How short are you thinking of going?"</p><p>"Shoulder length, maybe. I don't know..." She tucked the strand behind her ear.</p><p>"I think that would suit you very well."</p><p>"You think so?"</p><p>Seleth-Anyek nodded and lifted her cup for a final sip. For a moment it looked as though she was hiding a smile behind the rim of it. Beverly quirked an eyebrow, but she didn't ask. Whatever it was, if she wanted to share she would. Draining the last bit of coffee from her cup, Beverly smoothed out her skirt once more. "Right, I should be off, I-" Some innocuous lie balanced on the tip of her tongue, a way to excuse from more conversation so she could go home and rest before pick-up time. But did she really need an excuse?  "I should be off. Shall I get these last two chairs?"</p><p>"No, no, I've got them."</p><p>"Are you sure?"</p><p>"Of course."</p><p>"All right." She nodded and picked up her purse, hanging it over her shoulder. "Thank you, for..." She stopped, unsure of what exactly she wanted to say. Before she could find the words, Seleth-Anyek gave a gently dismissive wave of her hand.</p><p>"Don't give it another thought, dear."</p><p>"Right... well, have a good weekend, then." She lightly touched the Grazerite's arm before turning and heading for the door.</p><p>"You too. And Beverly?"</p><p>Stopping, she turned to find Seleth-Anyek once more by the refreshments table. For a moment, there was something in the other woman's expression that made Beverly feel like she was about to be let in on some big secret, as though those dark brown eyes held the key to something wondrous. Then Seleth-Anyek smiled, and the feeling was gone. A sense of inexplicable disappointment fluttered through Beverly's chest, gone as soon as it had come. "You'll be all right. It might take a while, but you will."</p><p>"Yes..." She smiled back, puzzled by what had just transpired. "Yes, I will," she said, and it was one of those truths that was known but not felt, comforting only in that its absence would be terrifying. </p><p>"See you next week?"</p><p>"Yeah." Beverly nodded, her gaze lingering on Seleth-Anyek for a moment longer, as the Grazerite turned her attention back to tidying up the table. "See you next week."</p><hr/><p class="">As Beverly left the street and stepped into the park, the smell of damp earth, leaves and a variety of flowers rose all around her. Though greenery was present nearly everywhere in San Francisco, the neat trees, shrubs and planters filled with flowers that lined the streets paled in comparison with verdant refuges like this one where the flora was given space to stretch and wrap and flower. Tall trees and trellises overgrown with hibiscus and vines partially obscured the city-scape around, and smooth paths curved around and past them, flanked in places by benches and the odd chess table. </p><p class="">The park was barely a stone's throw from Starfleet Medical, its familiar buildings visible from between the trees, and it had once been Beverly's go-to spot when she needed a break from an all-day library visit or some fresh air between lectures. Having recently returned to join the faculty, she'd taken to having lunch there when the weather and her schedule permitted.</p><p class="">Four months in, she had settled into her new position pretty well but it was still strange to be back, on Earth as well as on campus. She'd been brought in as a specialist instructor, and her purview was small seminar groups and practical training sessions rather than full lecture halls, but it was a far cry from the sort of practical on-the-job mentoring that life as part of the command staff of a deep space exploration vessel often entailed. Still, she enjoyed teaching. It was challenging in its own ways, and there was a particular kind of satisfaction and exhilaration to be found in sharing her experiences with the next generation of Starfleet doctors. </p><p class="">Wesley was settling in well, too. He was enjoying the freedom of living on a planet, steady access to the outdoors and everything a city had to offer, and going to school with more students his own age. Being "the kid who lived on the Enterprise" had been such a good ice-breaker that he'd very quickly made friends. They often talked about their time on the Enterprise over dinner, about the things they'd seen and done out there. Sharing those memories, laughing about it and missing it together, seemed to have brought them closer together of late. It was a relief; he'd been so angry with her at first, for taking him away from his friends, from the Enterprise and his role as acting ensign. He still was some days, but less often.  </p><p class="">As Beverly approached the open area in the center of the park, where a small fountain was bubbling happily, she spotted a lithe figure in a long, beige trench coat sitting on one of the benches — her usual lunch spot. The short, cropped hair was bright white against the wrinkled, light brown skin and a bright green scarf around the neck fluttered in the breeze. Beverly smiled. She hadn't seen Freddie in a while, but the retiree often fed birds here around the same time as Beverly had lunch and over time they'd taken to chatting. A number of pigeons were strutting about on the ground by hir feet and only reluctantly moved a few feet away when Beverly got closer. </p><p class="">"Mind if I join you?" She asked mostly as a courtesy; so far the answer had never been no.</p><p class="">"Well hello, Doctor," Freddie replied, smiling as ze peered up at her. A pair of large, dangling earrings hung from hir earlobes, glinting in the sun. "Sit down, sit down." </p><p class="">Beverly smiled and took a seat, putting her lunch bag on her lap. "I haven't seen you in a while."  </p><p class="">"Mm, no. I've been out of town, visiting family."</p><p class="">"I see." She didn't ask where to or what family, having over time developed the strong impression that Freddie didn't like personal questions and covered it up by rambling in an endearing but uninformative manner. "I hope you've been well."</p><p class="">"Oh yes, quite well, thank you." Ze reached into hir bag for some more feed and scattered it on the ground as the pigeons flocked around hir feet again. "It's starting to feel like fall."</p><p>"I was just thinking that this morning."</p><p>As Beverly started in on her lunch, a non-replicated stir fry from a little place just off campus, the chit-chatting soon fell away to a comfortable silence and Beverly's mind wandered away from the seminar she ought to be preparing for, and out into the vast reaches of space. Where were they, right now? Settling in and all the benefits of planet living aside, she always came back to that question in quiet moments and it brought with it a gently tugging restlessness and a less gentle sense of loss.</p><p>"Thinking about that ship of yours again? The Enterprise, was it?" Freddie's voice pulled her out of her reverie.</p><p>"How did you know?" she asked with a chuckle, tearing her gaze away from the surface of the fountain where it had lingered as she zoned out. She'd mentioned the Enterprise before, sure, but had she really talked about it so much that it stood out as a source of distraction?</p><p>"Seemed like a fairly safe bet." Ze shrugged and fished some nuts out of hir pocket, popping one hir mouth. "What is it about that tub anyway?"</p><p>"I don't know, it's just... unlike any other ship. My rotation there wasn't very long but the things you get to see... Deep space exploration isn't quite like anything else." She skewered a piece of baby corn with her fork as she continued. "The work was fascinating, too. More challenging than any other position I've had and still plenty of time for research while in warp. And some of the best colleagues I've worked with..."</p><p>"Sounds like you really miss it."</p><p>"I do." She paused a moment, glancing toward the campus buildings. "It doesn't quite seem fair to my students. I want to be completely committed to my work here but... I don't know." She didn't say out loud what she couldn't seem to stop wondering — had she made a mistake in leaving? It had seemed like the right choice at the time — stability and safety for her family, a more normal adolescence for Wesley — but more often than not it didn't <em>feel</em> like the right choice. </p><p>"Mm..." Freddie nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps there are things still left for you to do out there. You may find yourself back on that shiny bridge one day." Ze smiled sweetly, scooping up another small handful of bird feed and scattering it on the ground.</p><p>"Well... you usually don't get more than one shot on a ship like the Enterprise. Competition's pretty fierce." Beverly smiled, a surge of sadness swelling up and then slowly subsiding.</p><p>"You should never say never."</p><p>"No, I suppose not..." </p><p>Silence settled over the bench again, only disturbed by the splish-splash of the fountain and the cooing of the pigeons. Beverly directed her mind back to her upcoming seminar as she ate, and when she finished her meal and glanced at her wrist-watch she knew what she'd find. "Well, time for me to get back," she said with a little sigh and tucked her lunch bag back into her suitcase. "Take care of yourself, Freddie."</p><p>"You too, Doctor," ze responded, patting her hand briefly and reaching into the bird feed bag once more.</p><p>Getting up, Beverly headed back in the direction of the campus, slowly going through her seminar notes in her head. As she reached the edge of the park, she turned on a whim and looked back to find the bench empty. She scanned the park quickly, but the only sign of Freddie was a single pigeon sitting on the back of the bench.</p><p>"Huh... weird." She furrowed her brow, then shrugged and turned back, hurrying her steps a little before she ended up late for her own class.</p><p> </p>
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